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#when the book is 70 years old
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A collage for 1955 Lorraine. All images came from 50s-era Cosmopolitan magazine scans from this collection.
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madwoman14 · 2 years
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nothing just thinking about how a ponniyan selvan movie was not just mani ratnam’s dream but also the dream of so many that came before him and how kollywood has finally put the story on screen after 70 years…
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suddenlymicah · 29 days
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has anyone considered henry possessing glamrock freddy or am i being a little silly right now
#although for one of you the darkest pit of hell has opened to swallow you whole#so don't keep the devil waiting old friend#henry being glamrock freddy makes sense to me#“my friends are down here” william? william afton? old friend?#and if we consider the henry suicide robot thing canon#maybe just maybe#henry “survived” pizzaria simulator#reinstated fazbears as a corporate entity#hired the indie developer#idk where he would stand on the glitchtrap thing but he was shown to be a little silly in he books? maybe he thought afton was fully gone#and was trying to destroy the last parts of him that remained#he realized vanessa was being recruited by afton and set up the pizzaplex#he built the glamrocks? by contextual evidence it makes sense for michael to have built the glamrocks#given the glamrocks similarities to the funtimes including freddys stomach hatch (remember funtime freddy's stomach hatch?)#so if we're saying that michael built the glamrocks then michael wouldve had to have survived pizzaria simulator#which means somewhere along the line they fucked up#and considering that theres roughly 40 years between the bite of 83 and pizzaria simulator#that would mean that henry is like 70 when he burns down freddy fazbears pizza place?#i doubt any rickety ass 70 year old is going#like btw that was a badass line#but henry would be too old for that shit💀#so if we just take henrys suicide animatronic (named baby but probably meaning a baby version of charlie(the og book trilogy))#so what if he got remnant in him when he killed himself and therefore was stuck alive#so he and michael could have plausibly survived pizzasim because of the remnant they were trying to burn away#bc if remnant survived the fnaf3 fire why wouldnt it survive the pizzasim fire?#so saying that henry killed himself around 2000 leaves him at ~50 forever#he couldve also killed himself around 1996 after opening fnaf 2 closing fnaf 2 and reopening/reclosing fnaf 1#leaving him ~45 forever#doesnt matter the year it just matters that hes already dead before pizzaria simulator and after fnaf1 and fnaf2 events#not to mention with william dead around 1993 henry wouldve been the one managing circus baby's entertainment and rentals
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britneyshakespeare · 1 year
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Never talk to me or Midge or Francie or Skipper or PJ or Stacey or Christie or Steffie or Jamie or Cara or Kelley or Casey again
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roseofnohr · 2 years
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not to east of edenpost again, but i still can't get over the fact that when aron and cal are named, samuel mentions that cain was better off than abel despite his mistakes because cain continues to live but abel lives only in the story. because later on, aron dies for that exact reason: he lives only in the story. he joins the military - and ultimately is killed - because he's unwilling to adjust to a life outside of the story he created in his head of the purity of those close to him/in his family.
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kittykatninja321 · 6 months
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cannot imagine having your favorite version of Superman be from the Snyder movies and then getting mad at every over version of Clark Kent that actually has a personality
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dust-n-roses · 6 months
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all the Rush news with the press Geddy's been doing and now the start of the book tour is actually giving me anxiety oh my god
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andromedasummer · 1 year
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secondhand bookshops rule so hard esp my fav one in town. there are such specific sections for everything. in the scifi shelves theyve organized things by space sci-fi, sea sci-fi, dystopia etc. there's a paranormal romance section in the romance section. they have 3 shelves longer than i am tall dedicated to the star trek novelizations organized by series and 3 under that dedicated to dragonlance books. i went to look at their craft section and they had subsections for eras and styles of embroidery. i can look for motorsport books by series or manufacturer without coming across top gear books or car manuals, which have their own sections. i can find poetry by nz poets in their own bookcase and books by māori authors all over the shop because they've been marked by a specific tag on the binding.
#when i went there last year i found a bunch of little knitting books dedicated to weird and fun tea cosies for $15#and my mother wanted to make some but was bored of the stuff she found online so i was like damn! mine now!#didnt buy anything today cos saving money and was just wasting time till next bus but they have a GIANT $90 encyclopedia of all of#shakespeares histories tragedies and comedies (all his plays!!!)#i remember 2 years back someone donated their grandfathers old racing book collection#and it was massive. 200 books. multiple in series like ''ferraris of 1958. ferraris of 1959''#and so on up until the year he died#but the BEST thing was the bookstore owner showed me#a local published book on the new zealand grand prix#which is a race held here every year that nz drivers compete in#and taped on the inside of the cover was a form#and it was the mans entry form that he submitted to race and the paper showing his result in that years race#(it was in the 70s)#like thats AMAZING#he had a good few on the rally scene in wellington which i wanted to get but got snapped up :(#rally was HUGE back when#the reason our waterfront is so huge (biiig pavement that stretches from the water and rocks to the park/sitting areas#which are all elevated) is because rallies were held on the waterfront!?#so all the spectator stuff had to be raised up so no one would be hit if the car spun out#of course that meant cars would either go off the edge of the waterfront and into the rocks/harbour or slam into concrete walls#because it was the 60s and safety wasnt. a thing they considered.
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beatlesforsale · 1 year
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I've been given a wealth of old books that my grandmother owned and the stuff I've collected from her library has been amazing! I have so many classic books from the 1950's like Wind in The Willows, The Secret Garden and Treasure Island to just name a few.
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The small book on the right is officially the oldest thing I own; a prayer book pre-dating 1899 with no publication date unfortunately -but it has at least been produced in the 1890s or even the 1880s! It probably belonged to one of my great great grandparents and it's so interesting to flip through.
The survival from nuclear warfare is actually something my Dad picked up and it's from the 1960s. It's definitely an interesting part of history and I love weird little pamphlets like this!
The Lord of the Rings book belonged to my uncle and is from the 1970s. I've never read the series but I love the box set and I also have a 1966 copy of The Hobbit!
I cannot WAIT to build a proper library one day with all my books, collected and otherwise all put out on display and running wall to wall. My current bookshelf is packed to the brim and I have boxes of old and new books that simply won't fit 😅.
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paterklatter · 1 year
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me when getting a new book from the library means i have to go outside
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leebrontide · 11 months
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My autistic peeps, I have one bit of advice for you.
Be extremely selective about who you accept social rule feedback from.
Most autistic folks I know tie themselves up in knots, trying to figure out this social rule book that everybody else seems to have gotten, that they didn't get. In fact a lot of the "rigidity" that I see other therapists complaining about can be put down to the natural effects of people trying really hard to find one goddamn rule that will stay put.
The thing is- most people walk around as if they have the one universal, unassailable, common-sense rule book for social interaction.
And they are utterly full of shit.
In the US in particular there is incredibly low consensus about how people should behave. Just go post on twitter about whether it is or is not rude to wear your shoes in someone's house, or as a 70 year old and a 20 year old about phone etiquette. That's before we get into other demographic differences. Don't even get me started on "professionalism".
Neurotypical people get that feedback to, but are, on average, way more able to flag it as either 1) a rule for working with that person/similar people 2) bullshit. NOT as a universal rule they should have already known, that they should feel bad about not already knowing.
The number of things that people actually universally agree on is really low.
So when people give you feedback that the social rule they expect you to follow is obvious, they are often being a total dick.
Ask questions, look for patterns in specific settings, and make sure you've worked on your values enough to have a reasonable ecosystem of guiding principles.
But remember that nobody has that rule book.
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taylor-titmouse · 4 months
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The Masson Circle Collection (18+)
OUT NOW!
Even killers can fall in love. Set against a backdrop of early 70s Europe, The Masson Circle is a collection of illustrated queer romance novellas between assassins, thieves, and the criminal mastermind at the middle of them all. Originally released between 2020 and 2021, these three stories have been remastered with revised text, 30 brand new illustrations, and an exclusive bonus story. This collection is roughly 69k words.
All three stories contain some violence, references to alcohol, and explicit sexual content and images. They are intended for adult audiences only. Comes in DRM-free PDF and EPUB formats, and includes an image gallery ZIP containing all book illustrations, plus all the sketchbook content included in the original releases.
Daffodils
Retired assassin Ezra Platt loves his wife, Tessa, more than anything else in the world. For the first time in six years, the two are both in town for their anniversary, which means it has to be made special. What do you get the woman who is your everything, especially when she's an assassin herself? Perhaps the answer lies in Ezra's memories of meeting her...
18.2k words. Features fem dom, face sitting, and pegging.
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Carnations
The Duplessis is hosting its biannual masked bacchanal, and art forger and thief Leonard Lacroix has been hired to empty its safe. Infiltrating the classy gentlemen's club is easy, but when he runs into an old flame, getting out with all he wants is not. 
17.4k words. Features gay sex in a private office. Contains the use of a homophobic slur.
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Laurels
French couturier Mathieu Masson is a man with one foot in the underworld, the one to call for anything from a killing to a Caravaggio. But when a new client demands what he can't give, he has only his bodyguard, Jean Martin, to lean on. 
16k words. Features a trans male lead and tender lovemaking. Contains some queerphobia, and references to child sex abuse in a character's past.
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This collection also includes Narcissus, Dianthus, and Sweet Bay, each an extra short story connected to their corresponding book, from the perspective of the love interest. Narcissus explores Tessa's memory of her and Ezra's first night together. Dianthus recalls the time Lionel and Leonard fooled around in a professor's office in college. Sweet Bay takes place just before Laurels' epilogue, as Jean and Mathieu settle into their partnership and open up about themselves. Sweet Bay contains discussion of child sex abuse in a character's past.
Read it today!
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etirabys · 3 months
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meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again
I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.
I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.
TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.
The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.
Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:
Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition
And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.
(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")
I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,
(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)
it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.
(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)
which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that
(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)
I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking
(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)
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kamaluhkhan · 1 day
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GUILTY AS SIN?
GLUTTONY — part v of we'll write sins like tragedies
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pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 3k summary: after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies. warnings: set during the last olympian so spoilers for the entire pjo book series; luke + reader get drunk; mention of death + war + reader has some survivor's guilt; smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, kinda sub!luke, brief allusion to knife kink — 18 + MDNI) + angst author's note: not sure how i feel ab this one but i've been workshopping it for weeks so i think her time has come !! also maybe got a bit too deep into book lore oops. also also ive been listening to this song an outrageous amount and i hope i did it justice ANYWAYS lmk what y'all think, thanks sm for reading ♥
♪ "guilty as sin?" by taylor swift
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you’re well aware of how suspicious this looks, rendezvousing with the enemy at a sleazy dive bar in the heart of the city. 
he walks in, and your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. his familiar deep brown eyes are now striking gold, and a streak of gray is woven through his signature dark curls — evidence of the battles you've fought, on opposite sides, and an ominous reminder of a war that has yet to be over. 
as he casually orders himself a drink and one for you, you keep a hand on your concealed dagger. it’s become an instinct of yours, whenever he’s around.
“i didn’t come here to fight.” he assures, catching the glint of your blade. 
“and what about…..” you gesture broadly at him. 
“we’re not entirely synched yet, so it gives him a break whenever i’m in full control,” he explains as though reciting from a textbook (something like how to betray your loved ones and overthrow the olympians 101). “it’s only me tonight. i swear on the river styx.”
a shiver passes through you.
about a year ago, luke tracked you down in new york. apparently, kronos was pushing him to do something extreme, and luke felt conflicted. 
you thought it had to be some sort of cruel joke, because you could not think of anything more extreme than what luke had already done in facilitating a war between gods and titans. you had no patience for his crocodile tears, not after he played you so well the first time. 
you told him as much, then told him to fuck off. 
to be fair, you didn’t know that would lead to him bathing in the river styx and becoming a vessel for the titan lord himself.
luke wears the curse of achilles well: all strong muscles and sharp angles, his tan skin glowing ever-so slightly, and his body devoid of any fresh cuts or bruises despite surviving an explosion just a few days prior. 
“so….what? you’re the pilot whenever kronos needs to take a really long nap?” 
“i’d say timeshare is the closest way to describe it.” 
“50/50 ownership?”
“more like 90/10.”
you scoff. “sounds like a scam.”
the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. it reminds you so much of old times, his boyish charm peeking through whenever a camper would try to pull a prank on him, and then complain when he’d beat them to the punch. 
“it’s just me,” he repeats, but you didn’t need any more confirmation.
you know deep in your gut, from that mischievous smirk alone: it’s not the lord of time, but luke castellan next to you.
the bar is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. there’s a game being shown on TV, and people wearing sports jerseys occasionally groan or cheer or come to the counter to order another pint for their table while keeping their eyes glued to the screen. the jukebox in the corner plays music from the 70s and 80s as a group of friends starts to dance, tipsy after a deadly combination of jello shots and sangria.
for the first few drinks, you and luke are silent, letting these sounds of regular human existence fill the space between you. you half-expect him to ask about law school admissions, or the new tattoo you got on your upper thigh, or your band’s latest show — all fragments of your own mundane mortal life used to distract yourself from demigod realities. 
he doesn’t, though. luke just stares at the hockey game, one you know for a fact he doesn’t care about because the rangers aren’t playing, as he sips his old-fashioned like he has all the time in the world. 
“did you wanna meet so we could just sit here in silence or….”
when you had agreed to this meeting, you had a clear goal in mind: find out who the spy is and clear your name.
it might be too much rum or the crushing weight of recent events, but you no longer have the energy nor the drive to be strategic or even cautious around luke. now, you’re looking for a cure to your bone deep boredom and heartache.
"no. i’m here because….” he falters and runs a hand through his hair. “look, i heard about what happened at camp. and, with beck —” 
“dying?” you finish, taking one last gulp of your drink. all the rage, resentment and grief you’ve been feeling has been lodged in your throat. you’d hope each sip of your dark and stormy would burn through it, but instead it comes tumbling from your lips. 
“honestly, beck would probably still be alive if you didn’t join the dark side. i guess you’re kinda leading the dark side now, aren’t you luke? what’s that like?” 
luke polishes off his drink, too, his cheeks flushed. he gestures at the bartender for a third round of drinks. or is it fourth? 
“don’t be a dick,” luke sighs once a replenished glass is placed in front of him. “i obviously never wanted to hurt you — any of you.”
if you were of sober mind, maybe you’d point out that it’s too late; that luke already hurt all of you the minute he decided to side with kronos.
“i know i did, though,” he adds after swallowing a mouthful of his drink. 
you know that if luke was of sober mind, he would never have admitted that. he seems to know better than to apologize though, hopefully recognizing that the damage has already been done. 
it’s not like your hands aren’t bloody, too. 
“it was supposed to be me, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “i was supposed to go with percy on the mission, but beck offered to go instead because he thought — he knew — that it would….it would be hard for me to see…. you.”
luke pauses and turns away from you. “you couldn’t have known what would happen.” his voice wavers, too. “beckendorf was looking out for you — it’s what he does. did.”
“i couldn’t even go to the funeral,” you continue. “i feel like i didn’t really get to say goodbye, you know?”
 “yeah,” luke hums sorrowfully. “mourning someone who fought for the gods isn’t really allowed where i am.”
again, you could point out the irony in what he’s saying. given everything he’s done, luke dug his own grave and clearly some for his friends, too. 
tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. the reality is that one of your best friends died because you couldn’t handle an encounter with your ex-boyfriend, the one you’re currently sitting beside. 
you might not have done what they accused you of, but you’re nowhere near innocent. who were you to give yourself permission to cry?
in the dim neon light, you notice a tear slide down luke’s cheek before he wipes it away just as fast.
he clears his throat. “to charles beckendorf: a hero by any other name.”
you tap your glass against luke’s, and you both drink in honor of your lost friend. you drink to everyone and everything you’ve lost, too. 
beckendorf is dead; chris has lost his mind; clarisse might start her own war with the apollo cabin over a flying chariot; and ever since the princess andromeda mission went terribly wrong, silena can’t go one minute without bursting into tears. 
it was too easy for everything to fall apart, as though this was always what the fates had in store for you — the next generation of greek tragedies. 
thankfully, there always comes a break in the tragedy, and it seems to be now: you and luke, getting drunk off whiskey and rum and old memories. 
you remember countless times sneaking out to the beach after curfew, mixing store-brand soda with cheap alcohol smuggled into camp by luke’s half-brothers; hot summer nights spent fantasizing about existence outside of camp and returning to your head counselor duties in the morning with chiron and mr. d none the wiser. once you started dating, it became routine for the two of you to wander away from the group for some privacy, somewhere far enough away so that no one could hear you scream luke’s name.
those memories still make your skin flush, even as you’re here drinking cocktails at a bar in the city, with one friend gone to elysium and everyone else calling you a traitor.
“i can’t believe you don’t remember that night! mr. d caught a few senior campers getting drunk in his office? they stole a super expensive bottle of wine, threw up all over the carpet, and had to spend the rest of the night cleaning it?” 
you continue shaking your head. you tip your glass back to capture the last drops of amber liquid before confessing:  
“what i remember is spending the whole night jealous of malcolm pace because he got to slow dance with you.”
luke lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, then he’s silent for a few moments.
“i love this song,” luke muses, words blurring together. “i haven’t heard it in a while.” he finishes his drink and sets the glass down, holding his hand out to you. 
your brain is a bit foggy from all the alcohol, so it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s asking. 
“you wanna dance?”
“yeah,” he answers. “make up for lost time.”
it’s not until you feel luke’s chest pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your waist, that you register what song is currently playing.
“downtown lights” by the blue nile — luke had spent so long trying to find the right song for your first time together. 
you told him not to worry, teased him a bit for planning every detail so meticulously, but deep down, your heart swelled with how much he cared.
the empty hermes cabin during capture-the-flag, both of you pretending to be too injured from sparring practice to play. luke’s sweaty hands fumbling with the condom, you having to step in and rip the wrapper with your teeth. clothes being haphazardly thrown on so you could run back to the infirmary before anyone noticed. silent vows to do it again, and again, and again. 
the more time spent exploring and experimenting, the more you got the rhythm of each other’s bodies, knew how to make the other squirm and throw their head back in pleasure — and that didn’t just go away when luke joined kronos’ army. 
even when your loyalties were more clear, your consciousness was plagued with visions of you and luke together, ones that left your sheets burning, more than the blazing summer heat. you confided in silena about these once, and she assured you that there is no such thing as bad thoughts. 
she did warn you, though: it’s when you indulge in these fantasies that they risk becoming fatal.
now, thinking back and forth between memories with luke and the events of this past very shitty week, you realize that maybe that’s why you’re here.
despite everything you’ve done, you supposedly betrayed people you consistently fight beside, fight for; you were thrown out of a place you once considered home and told never to come back. 
you were doomed from the start — a daughter of nemesis, assumed to be wicked and revenge-seeking since birth. 
well, if they’re going to crucify you anyway…..
once the song ends, you ask:
“you wanna go outside for a smoke?”
your hands start playing with the curls at the base of luke’s neck, hinting at what you were hoping comes next.
luke licks his lips, gold eyes darker than before. 
“guess you’re itching to put that celestial bronze to good use,” he says lowly.
“only if you ask nicely,” you drawl. 
luke blushes. 
you pull away from him, start walking towards the back exit, and pray that he follows you. 
this is why meeting with you was dangerous: there’s no one else in the world – god, titan, or otherwise – luke castellan would get on his knees for, let alone in the filthy alley behind a bar.  
technically, kronos sent luke here to recruit you. 
the scythe charm — the one used to communicate with silena — sits heavy in his pocket. it’s part of the reason why you were exiled from camp, why your friends don’t look at you the same way. why you can’t ever go back home, not really. 
luke imagines you might resent those who threw you out of camp, but you would never betray them. he knew that you weren’t likely to join kronos’ army.
he’s thankful that, at the very least, you still have a penchant for breaking some rules. 
the two of you are a tangled mess of teeth and tongue. luke tastes the spiciness of ginger beer and rum, mixed with sweetness from the clove cigarette you just smoked. you lock one leg around luke’s hip, and the brief glimpse of your lacy black underwear has him throbbing. one of your hands slips underneath his shirt to trace the contours of his abdomen. luke’s breath hitches when your hand reaches down even further. 
“wait –” you pause your actions to let luke finish his sentence, and already he regrets voicing his hollow concern. “i….i probably should not be doing this.”
“me neither,” you concede, breathing steadily.“but, they already think i’m guilty.”  with your other hand, your thumb dances over his kiss-swollen lips and luke feels something ignite in the pit of his stomach. “maybe i am, with how much i think about you.”
luke knows what’s at stake for him, if anyone finds out, but in a booze-soaked haze and with you looking at him like that, he can’t seem to care. 
it’s coming back to him now: that endless cycle of waking up sticky and drenched in sweat over dreams of screaming your name and going about his day like it wasn’t a paradox to be leading kronos’ army and still wanting someone aligned with the enemy to devour him. 
when he agreed, however reluctantly, to be a vessel for kronos, luke had to lock those desires inside a vault deep inside his mind. 
this might very well be luke’s last chance to satisfy his cravings, once and for all. tonight, he’s in full control of his body and mind. 
he’ll happily yield his power to you. 
soon enough, your teeth gnaw on his top lip as luke messily thrusts into you, your underwear hastily pushed to the side. he tries to savor every part of this, of you — the heel of your combat boot digging into his back; the sting of your nails where you grip him; the familiar scent of your skin, sickly sweet cherries and burnt vanilla; the hoarseness of your voice, encouraging him to go faster, harder. following your orders, luke wraps both of your legs around his waist and digs his fingers further into your hips to keep them secure.
it’s a religious experience, watching you throw your head back against the brick wall as your orgasm crashes through you. luke follows a few seconds later, pulling out just in time to paint the inside of your thighs with his cum.
luke grins as he watches you come down from your high, eyes closed, chest heaving, neck engraved with the outline of his teeth.
“sorry, didn’t mean to give you a concussion.”
you open your eyes just to roll them at luke, who’s tucking himself back into his jeans.
“you’re such an asshole,” you jest through labored breaths, registering his shit-eating grin. you fix the hem of your leather skirt and pout dramatically. “and you had to leave a mess behind, didn’t you?”
without another word, luke kneels in front of you. 
he leans his head back to admire how your lips curl into a bemused smile at his antics. your fingers press into his pulse point, no doubt feeling how reckless his heartbeat becomes underneath you. once more, your thumb prods at his lips; this time luke grants access, the cold metal of your ring burning on his tongue. 
“is this how you pledged loyalty to your titan king?” you taunt. 
luke shakes his head, still sucking your digit. 
he did have to bow, but not like this. the only entity he’d worship this desperately is you. 
“i’m honored,” you coo. luke bites back a whimper when you remove your thumb from his mouth, instead tracing the scar on his face, up his cheekbone. “i have to say though: i miss your brown eyes, pretty boy.”
his whole body is on fire with how you touch him, but your passing observation feels like a knife to the gut. wanting to be good for you, to prove he’s still your pretty boy, luke pushes up the bottom of your skirt so it bunches around your waist. 
“luke!” you attempt to scold, concealing a moan when his teeth graze your clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. “someone might see.”
“it’ll be fine, baby,” he assures. “is this new?” luke is mesmerized by the fresh ink on your thigh, fingers trailing over swirling black lines. 
you hum, a goddess gazing down on her disciple. “do you like it?”
luke nods. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, journeying across your skin, tasting salty sweat mixed with his cum drying between your legs. he hears your whimpers for more. he complies and plunges two fingers beneath the lace until you reach your peak. luke places one last kiss to your core, before getting up again.
you crash your lips onto his, and you’re kissing him the way you did back when you really loved him, chaotic and feverish. your fingers snake through his curls, and you tug on them just enough to make luke’s head spin. 
you’re somehow more intoxicating than however many drinks he downed earlier.
he sees something simmering behind your eyes, when you ask if he wants to come back to your apartment. you both know you shouldn’t, but honestly — in the grand scheme of things, what’s one more sin?as the two of you are tangled beneath your bedsheets, you decide to frame it differently, as a mutual vow: maybe just one more time will satisfy this hunger.
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70sscifiart · 5 months
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The Last-Minute Sci-Fi Gift Guide
There's only one thing worse than procrastinating on getting gifts for your loved ones, and that's procrastinating on putting together a guide to help out everyone else with all those gifts. It's Dec 12, so you can decide for yourself which I'm doing.
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Art book: Worlds Beyond Time, $32
If you follow this blog, you might have heard of this one. I published Worlds Beyond Time: Sci-Fi Art of the 1970s this year after five years of work on it, and I think it's really good! 400+ images, 100+ artists, with lots of fun art history and jokes.
Also, it's just $20 right now if you order through my publisher and use the code SKIPTHELINE! Cheapest it's ever been!
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Card game: Coup, $14
In this "social deduction" card game, you play as a government official in a future dystopia who needs to backstab their way into power. Everyone starts out with just two cards in this bluffing game, so the tide can turn pretty quick when players start assassinating each other's cards. The fast pace makes it a good gift for someone who loves spies but thinks they don't like card games.
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Game to play over Zoom: Bad Spaceships, $3
If a bluffing game stresses you out, try Bad Spaceships: It's a collaborative world-building game in which you roll dice to see what area of your spaceship connects to another, forcing you to spitball exactly why this is the case. As the game puts it, you might fix the hull by playing Tetris, or charge your weapons in the swimming pool. You're basically getting weird prompts to tell a story that can evolve over the course of the game.
It's such an indie game that it comes as PDFs you download from itch.io, but you can play it just as well over Zoom, if you're looking for an excuse to catch up with your old digital nomad college friend.
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Movies/TV: Streaming service gift card
Gift cards are all well and good, but you can personalize them by recommending a few of your favorite shows as well. I suggest:
Hulu: Cowboy Bebop
Apple TV+: Severance
Criterion Channel: Ravenous, Paprika, Strange Days
Paramount+: Yellowjackets
Amazon Prime: The Devil's Hour
But to be honest, this entry is just an excuse to talk about the new Max show Scavenger’s Reign. Inspired by the work of French artist Moebius and with a clear debt to famed 70s animated film Fantastic Planet, this stylish sci-fi show features a bunch of humans trying to survive on a beautiful but hostile alien world. Perfect for lovers of fictional nature.
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Vintage sci-fi
This Etsy shop has some good stuff, like the 1971 Frank Kelly Freas NASA poster above, a bit of history that I even mentioned on page 167 of my art book.
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Penguin science fiction postcards, $28
These postcards have a ton of very cool sci-fi covers I've blogged in the past – great value if you want a lot of art for a low cost.
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Meteorite pendant necklace, $34
I think we all know what kind of rock your loved ones need around their neck: A chunk of meteorite straight out of the 1576 Argentinan meteorite fall.
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Book recs
For astronauts: Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, The New Guys: The Historic Class of Astronauts That Broke Barriers and Changed the Face of Space Travel by Meredith Bagby
For comedians: Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, Even Greater Mistakes: Short Stories by Charlie Jane Anders 
For sleuths: Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty, Drunk on All Your Strange New Words by Eddie Robson
For crafters: Knits of Tomorrow: Toys and Accessories for your Retro-Future Needs
For the resistance fighters: The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley, An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon
For slasher movie fans: Clown in a Cornfield by Adam Cesare
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Syd Mead "Biomorph Vehicle" button down shirt, $49
T-shirts aren't classy enough for the world's coolest visual futurist, Syd Mead. I haven't actually bought this incredibly odd shirt, but I really need to.
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Art prints (and more) from 70s sci-fi artists
Artist shops can be surprisingly hard to track down on the internet, but here's a short list of ones I've come across. All of these artists are featured in my book (except one), so you can read up on them before you commit to a print.
Michael Whelan 
John Harris
Syd Mead
Don Maitz
David B Mattingly
Peter Andrew Jones - Jones was one of just a few artists who declined to be included in my art book, but he has a distinct, colorful style that I would have loved to have featured!
Finally, here's one extra bonus, just for everyone who made it to the end of this article: The UK-based educational charity Centre for Computing History sells three big officially licensed John Harris posters featuring these three artworks, famous for their use as covers for Sinclair programming manuals.
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It's a great deal that I've never seen mentioned anywhere, and Harris' work has a timeless quality that makes it great for an unassuming wall decoration. If you're outside the UK, the shipping costs will be a pain, but there's no better deal for a classic sci-fi poster.
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bogleech · 10 days
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Could I mayhaps know what's the name of that arachnid field guide you have 0//0 it looks really pretty and I have. A thirst for all arachnid related field guides and biology books, love those critters
The Golden Guide to Spiders and their Kin! There were lots of them, originally made in the 60's or 70's I believe, and they used to still be so common when I was a kid - still in print, and sold for just a couple dollars everywhere - I thought everybody had a few! But now they seem to be forgotten.
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I had the spiders one, insects one and "seashores" one (mantis shrimps and nudibranchs!!) before I could even read, just looking at the pictures all day. As I learned to read they were how I learned concepts of taxonomy and ecology, why I knew what a "parasitoid" was in first grade and I'd talk constantly about insects that aren't really RARE, but culturally most people never heard about. These books made things like velvet ants, bolas spiders and hairy millipedes seem to me like knowledge as ordinary as dogs and cats.
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That "pests of animals" page in particular is why I knew there were wingless parasitic flies, and I thought that was so cool, I was obsessed with "SHEEP KED" for my entire childhood. This bug that nobody ever heard of when I mentioned it, but was at one time deemed worthy of inclusion in an everyday field guide. And they include "duck louse" as an animal pest you're expected to encounter. Sheep and duck parasites?!.....Oh, right! When these books first published, it was still commonplace for almost everyone to have experience with farm animals. Most people at least had grandparents or aunts and uncles with a farm they might visit and help out on. Of course they would encounter sheep and duck parasites. I think they still publish these, actually, I'm sure I still saw them in Barnes and Noble only a few years ago, but it's remarkable what a different America they were made under. My old copy even recommended DDT to control bed bugs....they did eventually edit that out in newer editions.
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Some of their attitudes may be outdated here and there, and they're only intended for North American wildlife, but I think the golden guides might still be perfect introductions to their topics for anyone, anywhere of any age really?? They're such well-balanced overviews so densely packed with just the most essential information about each organism.
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....Did people really ever just call tree frogs "hylas?!" It's one of their genus names, but was it also used as a common name anywhere? That's a cute idea. Maybe it was, briefly, so at some point to someone there was a concept of Frog, Toad, and Hyla?
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